Breaking through the Darkness
by SQUABandSQUABinality
Summary: Murtagh is mystified by a girl that never talks yet communicates well with dragons and serenades them. This is the story of a sad girl that comes to find happiness.  Suck at summaries
1. Prologue

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The sky resembled soot, darkening the already sad day. It loomed heavily on the blood lake which was forming, gathering on the once bustling battlefield. What was once full of life now held nothing but death. Corpses floated in crimson water which was once a part of them, rushing through their veins and beating heart, aiding in giving the life.

Ravens flew overhead and rats raced through the meadow, scurrying along only stopping to nibble on cold flesh when their beating hearts desired. They where the only things which proved that life truly still existed beyond the line of trees which enclosed the gruesome scene. This place once gave hope, and a sense of freedom to those who never truly had it, it was once beautiful and bustling with life.

Everything was no longer what it once was, all the flowers lay withered, crushed beneath the stomping feet of the living fighters from hours before, the animals fled out of fear of joining what was sure to be the men's fate. Only the trees remained whole and those would certainly soon join in this massacre of life, for the liquid honey shall soon seep through the soil, drowning the roots of these ancient trees. The overwhelming scent of flowers and crushed leaves had been quieted by the howls of pain, a man's final sound before going into an eternal slumber, and then suffocated by the choking smell of metal.

The rain started not long after, the heavens grieving such a scene. It washed away the blood and dispersed the scent, as if it had never been. Predators braved out of their well hidden homes, dragging once father, friend, brother, only knowing that that night they would all feast like kings and the children would live for another night, for they would not have to go hungry.

Everything was forgotten, the only proof of the battle was what they had all been fighting for. Rain droplets fell off its shiny surface, making it shimmer in a lone ray of moonlight which had succeeded in fighting its way through the dense cloud above.

It was larger then any mere stone, yet hardly as big as a mighty bolder. Its surface was smother and if not softer then the finest silk. Even after many generations, generations of being touched, probed, poked and invaded, it remained as if it had just been through its very first hour and hit by its very first twinkling of light.

Only those who truly appreciated the simplest of things in life would stop and admire it, instead of walking right past, even though it truly held a more important centre then any diamond, which gave riches, any intimate relationship, which gave sexual pleasure to ones physical self. It held something no man could buy, even with all the riches which the world had to offer, and no pleasure of the body could achieve, but that which may be rewarded to those who are truly special, just as love is only given to those who are worthy.

The water drops helped cleanse the stone of hope, that which could bring freedom, helping to show its pearly white crust which had been desired by many but never given, it waited for the innocent child, that of old soul, the light of the moon which broke through the darkness. She who was always willing to learn more.

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	2. The one he hates the most

Chapter 1 – The one he hates the most.

Blissful chatter filled the usually dark and unlit ballroom, which was hidden away in the centre of Galbatorix's castle, far away from the unworthy eyes of lower classed servants. Excitement filled the air and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves, everybody except the person this gathering had ultimately been planned for. What he felt was the exact opposite of joyful and excited. He was displeased and angry, he hated everything and everybody in the ranched kingdom, but he especially hated this party and everybody who was present at that very moment.

He stood in the corner alone, trying to some how become part of the wall, to be and stay unnoticed, not just for that evening but if possible for the rest of what is surely to be his miserable life. But of course that was impossible, he was the king's newest and only dragon rider, and the only reason the oversized, underused chandelier, which was hanging from the centre of the elaborately painted ceiling, was cleaned off of cobwebs at least a century old and had its candles lit. This was the night in which the king would officially announce him as his rider to the court and as his loyal servant forever. This was the rancid night in which Murtagh would publicly loose his freedom and the night that he and Thorn would be publicly showcased as the king's new puppets to the noblemen and women.

He noticed that the amount of joyous masked people around him almost filled the huge room as distastefully looked around at all of them. He started judging them, as they would surely soon judge him. The noblemen with their backs straight and glass in hand chatting in small groups or in pairs of two, probably talking about the current war plan they were working on or scheming together, conjuring up a way to make the rich richer, whilst leaving the poor to die of starvation. It might have even brought them joy to steel from those who are already of misfortune only to benefit themselves, in his eyes Murtagh saw them as the rats of society, nibbling away at the dying soldier bloody wound making his last moments even more miserable.

Then there were the women, the noblemen's wives, the vultures that fully fed on corpses until they were all completely satisfied, which they never were and probably never will be, they fight and bicker constantly between themselves and stabbing each other in the back. And when they aren't bickering and fighting they are competing amongst each other about all sorts of meaningless things, like who has the nicest clothes and the most loyal hard working servants. The whole wake was to the right of him, not more then six feet away, so close that Murtagh could hear every single word said by each of them, in all of their equally ear piercing, nagging voices if he were to pay them even an ounce of attention.

Since he had no interest whatsoever in listening to their idiotic and meaningless conversation Murtagh turned his attention to the now nearly empty wine glass in his hand, wondering how much more of the blood red liquid he would be able get down in a matter of an hour, all while cursing the uncomfortable mask that was set on his face, a piece of plain black leather hovering just above his nose and ending at the very beginning of his brow, with holes for his eyes. A high pitched and overly exaggerated giggle broke him away from his own _exciting _thoughts.

Out of human instinct his head turned to follow the abnormally loud noise, which rose above all the chatter, so as to see what was going on and what had made a bunch of girls squeal out in excitement, even though that excitement had been clearly forced and unnatural. As soon as he turned and saw who it had been that made the noise he cursed himself because the answer to his earlier thought had been simply **himself**. When he turned he came staring straight towards the leaching and ever growing bacteria of the community. The noblemen and women's precious little daughters were as bad as something or someone could possibly get and it's all because they inherit both their mother's and father's hunger for money, power and a high ranking in society. Though unlike their parents their own mothers would train them so that they would know how to spot the perfect victim for marriage, the fact that he was rich would make him instantly perfect, other then that they didn't care, whether he be bald, fat or dumb as a sac of bricks, if he had money they would go for it. Then once they had spotted the perfect victim they would either pounce or creep in next him then attack silently and unbeknownst to everyone, including the victim in question, they would find some way to get what they wanted. It seemed that what they wanted at that moment was him and unlucky for them it was the one thing they would probably never be able to worm there way in to getting.

Every time one of them would come to the castle with their fathers, when it was time they had a meeting with the king about current trade and earnings or war strategies, the girl would be free to go and have a look about the castle. This usually ended up in them _accidentally_ bumping into him; the girl in question would then proceed in latching onto his arm until it was time for her and her father to leave the castle grounds.

From all the people in society they were probably the most he disliked, he always felt like a hawk's prey when in their presence, they constantly watched his every move, he couldn't even move his hair from infront of his eyes without them sighing/ squealing/ fainting/ screaming and jumping up excitedly or all of the above. Though he had to admit the cockroaches, as he had always liked to call them, came in at a close second of whom the disliked the most. These being more commonly known as the know it all, stuck up sons of the noble men and women.

All he ever saw any of them do was look down on everyone else that wasn't them; they even looked down on him in the few times they had interacted whilst growing up. The fact that his father was who he was never stopped them in fact it probably riled them on more as they saw the way Morzan would always treat him. The fact that he lived in a bigger castle then they probably ever would never stopped them. Him inheriting all of his retched fathers belongings once he passed, which he had always hoped would have been very soon, never stopped them. Nothing ever stopped them not even the countless times he had beaten them at a match of swordplay never stopped them, though that would probably be because of the fact that he never actually tried to directly stop them, sure it annoyed the crap out of him but he had better things to do then deal with their childish shenanigans. Sure nothing about him and nothing he had ever done never stopped them, but if only they could see him now, the second most powerful magician in all of Alagaesia, a dragon rider bearing his father's sword, causing and spreading misery to those that apposed him all while holding Zar'roc, its name matching it perfectly.

With that said and done he finally realised something, he was one of them whether he wanted to be or not, in fact he might just maybe be even worse then all of them put together, obviously excluding Galbatorix. Sure they all watched lower classed people suffer and die while they lived in the lap of luxury, but they never actually had a direct role in killing them as he surely would. And sure they enjoy watching their servants work until they are on the brink of death, but they never, hopefully, physically tortured them as he would be doing to innocent people all because his king told him to. And they won't be the ones that will be going to permanently take away a child's father and a woman's husband during a bloody battle, he would.

That's when he knew that the person he hated the most in that room was actually himself.

He stood there and faced what would ultimately be his fate, he already felt that he had changed and was ultimately on the road to becoming someone he promised himself he would never become. Everything flashed before his eyes, craving blood and power, slaughtering innocent people and going to grave and dangerous extents to feed his addictions, playing around with magic that should never be touched all to fulfil his need to know more and to be able to do more. All thanks to his no longer existent conscious he will be doing things that any normal person wouldn't even be able to stomach doing, whilst never regretting a thing. He was going to become a monster. He was going to be like Morzan.

Meanwhile on the other side of the giant room was a person who was in the exact same physical position as Murtagh, leaning back on a wall in a slightly dark corner, with a wine glass in hand and looking about at those around her through the holes in her lace designed mask, observing the way they moved and acted among each other and examining all their mannerisms which were strange and senseless to her. Though there were a few differences between her and Murtagh, three differences to be exact, the first being not so very prominent or important, while he was nearing his second glass of wine her had remained untouched. Secondly she was to everybody around her what he wished to be – invisible.

Well she wasn't literally invisible but that was how everyone treated and acted around her, just as if she wasn't even there and not worth their precious time. She preferred not being talked to, being dragged into a forced and awkward conversation that she had no interest in being in, so she really didn't mind. The world didn't seem to look the same in her eyes as it did through those of everybody else around her, their views where different and she didn't thoroughly enjoy the way they treated others.

The third and final difference between the two youths was that when she looked around at the people that surrounded her, as horrible as they were, she didn't do it with a harsh and judging eye, but with an inquisitive and curious one. They twisted and turned all the obviously wrong things they do in their everyday lives so as to make it seem like it was the right thing to do. How could someone sane be capable of doing such things and still find themselves peacefully in bed that night? They all confused her to no end.


	3. The art of observation

Chapter 2 – The art of observation.

The large wooden doors which took up practically the entire east wall started to open with what sounded like much difficulty, they creaked and groaned and finally in what was probably the first time in a few hundred years they were completely open. With their help the other grand ballroom, which was just as big as the one the guests currently occupied, if not bigger, was available for entry by the guests to the great room which had temporarily been transformed into a dining hall just for the occasion.

The first thing anyone would heed upon entering was King Galbatorix, who was already seated in his throne at the head of the table with Shruikan curled up on the slightly upraised podium behind him, his presence demanded your attention and made you feel worthless, awkward and weak as his arrogance and power radiated off him in waves. All the chatter stopped and everyone fell silent, quickly fluttering to find and settle into their seats not wanting to keep their king waiting.

Then to everyone's surprise Murtagh moved slowly and took his time to find his seat, wine glass still in hand. When he actually sat down it was directly to the King's right, the seat that used to be occupied by Durza, once the king's right hand man, nervous looks started to make their way among the adults around the round, whilst the daughters were taken aback by how brave he was and thinking how they wish they could marry a man that brave, while on the contrary the sons snickered and rolled their eyes at his supposed idiocy.

Murtagh noticed all of the commotion and watched as all of these wretched people stared and laughed at him. They were all the same, all except one. While he was going over each person at the table given each of them a well-deserved death glare that would send anyone six feat under, he came upon a girl, no a woman, who appeared to be nothing like the people who she was to be dining with, she did nought but stare straight ahead, inspecting her hands or appreciate the marvellously painted sealing.

His attention was stolen away from this mysterious enigma of a woman when all the whispered chatter that had slowly started at the table abruptly stopped. Shruikan had arose from his position, shocking all of the people present even more then they had been by the apparent stunt that Murtagh had just pulled, probably because none of those present had ever even seen the ancient beast do anything but sleep.

They had always wanted to know what the great creature looked like awake and if he was even more intimidating than he was asleep, if that was even possible. They were curious as to the way he moved, would such a giant be surprisingly graceful or will he be as clumsy as most of them expected him to be, would the earth shake with every step he took. The answers to all of these questions are that yes it is possible for Shruikan to be even more intimating awake then he is when he's asleep, so intimating in fact that it's borderline urinate in ones pants scary, and his actions are the most graceful any person can ever see, he practically glides across the solid marble floors in his slow and calculated movements which were hypnotising yet with a silent purpose.

As Shruikan moved towards the table, coming down the left side of his rider, he caused panic to build up deep in the pits of everyone's stomach. He slowly passed seated individuals, making each person stiffen as he passed behind them each of them too scared to even breathe, then as soon as he would pass them they would nearly melt into their seats in relief. The only person that wasn't on the edge of their seat at that very moment was the same person Shruikan finally settled behind and the same person that had had Murtagh's attention to begin with.

You would of thought that this stunt would have caused an uproar though the way these they saw it if Shruikan was to sit and be comfortable around anyone it would be the weird woman that was always in black and had not spoken a word since she was just a young child. Though it was not expecting that the magnificent giant was not the only one who was comfortable with the situation but she was to, it seemed as if they understood each other.

No one knew how to react or more precisely how they were expected to react, which caused extreme confusion amongst everyone who was present and who certainly didn't want to upset they're king, fearing the consequences of doing so. The whole room was full of uncertainty and everyone felt it. Even Murtagh and the mysterious quiet lamb noticed, it was so thick in the air that it was almost making it hard to take in a proper breath. The only person that didn't seem to notice was the king himself, though in reality he was the first one who knew what was going to happen. As soon as Shruikan arose from his position he knew what emotions were about to be stirred and he looked forward to the state of confusion and fear, he basked in it, it allowed him all of the control.

He was also glad that Shruikan had become accustomed to Formora's daughter because if he had any say in it, and he always had a say in everything, she would most defiantly be around more often. The child named Aphra (pronounced a-fra) had always been quite beautiful, even as a babe and such young children usually annoyed him but she was always quiet, even at such an age. And as she grew she became even more beautiful all whilst keeping her quiet façade, until one day she stopped talking all together and wouldn't even speak when spoken to, the only response she would give was tilting her head to one side showing her understanding or a slight nod of yes or a no to a simple question.

The two giant sets of doors, one on each end of the rectangular room, suddenly opened and servants swarmed the room with huge trays of food balanced on each of their shoulders. They placed them in the centre of the large table and then all but left the room, only a few remained standing on the sides of the room, preparing themselves to fill newly empty glasses and taking away finished plates. However trying to do all this while having a huge dragon in the middle of one of the walkways is not the easiest thing.

When all the glasses were filled and all the food was on the table Galbatorix raised his arms in an offering why, giving his permission to the guests to help themselves. While readily filled plates magically appeared in front of the King and Murtagh, once again showing everyone in the room the importance that Murtagh now holds in the King's court and in the rest of Alagaesia, though at this point nobody understood in what way.

The meal went by quickly and without any more surprising disruptions, everyone got they're fill and filed back into the other room when allowed.

As the crowed slowly trickled back into the original room, with King Galbatorix entering first, then Murtagh right behind him and then the rest of the people present. During this exchange Murtagh lost sight of the one person that had kept him occupied throughout the night so far, and so keeping him for doing things that Galbatorix would most certainly make him regret. Everything she had done at the table would keep running in his head and it simply amazed him how with such company she could seem so pure and content with everything in this corrupt world, all she mostly did was pick away at the diminutive amount of food that she had place on her plate and stare around in wonder at the paintings on the wall and ceiling, which even he could appreciate as quite spectacular in the particular lighting.

Granted that every time someone would turn towards her Shruikan, who seemed to think highly of the girl, would growl and flash his diamond sharp teeth before what was probably an incredibly crude comment could even leave their lips. Murtagh's unusual fascination with her also went further, inspecting what she looked like, which was pretty hard to do with the huge mask covering her face, that everybody but the King had on. Her mask was shaped into what can only be compared to the contours of an eagle's face, yet it had multiple holes in the material forming a sort of lace pattern, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun on the top of her head, leaving her shoulders and neck covered only in the lace which made up the top part of her dress. Which then lead to a black bodes that rapped around her body so well that you could easily see every curve in her petite yet supple and feminine form, it continued to flow down in a flower motion to just above the knee in the same heavy material.

That was when he stopped himself and noticed just how much she was effecting him, since when had he ever been interested in the dresses women wore and how lighting effected the look of art. He straightened his back and his mind, not wanting anybody to know about his slight lapse in thought, it would be quite embarrassing.

Coming back to the real world he noticed that the setting of the room had been changed, it was amazing how he hadn't noticed once he had walked in, I wasn't as if it was a subtle change but a very prominent one.

A large podium now sat at the very end of the long room, with Galbatorix standing on it waiting for everyone to enter so that he could address them.

"An age of darkness is upon us. The Varden have tried to go up against our forces, the people of Alagaesia's forces and over turn them. They think that they are better than we are, that they are above us, just because they have that retched dragon rider on their side and because they managed to overturn my right hand man and his forces. What they don't understand is that we are too powerful to defeat. But now instead of having to only stand for keeping them at bay we have the power to get rid of the Varden and erase them from the history of Alagaesia as a constant annoyance but as a minor problem which was easily solved. Tonight is the night that the war changes. For tonight I introduce to all of you, my loyal servants, my new right hand. Murtagh Morzansson's reign begins as it always does. The gain of an ally brings about the loss of a traitor. Tomorrow at sun up a traitor hangs!"

Everyone cheered at the words of their king, while the whole hearted child's soul sobbed quietly at what was to come the next day. The loss of three beings lives.


	4. Evil Alagaesia

Chapter 3 – Evil Alagaesia

The morning came bringing a mixture of feelings along with it. Most were excited for the show that this day had promised to bring, while a select few felt sick to their stomachs about what they were about to view. Murtagh on the other hand, well Murtagh felt nothing, he knew that the whole of the situation was wrong and inhumane, but if this were to affect him now he would surely not survive the many battles that were to come.

He may not appear to care but his thoughts were a different story. If he allowed himself to think about it he would involuntarily list all of the reasons it was wrong, just to torture himself, knowing that all of this was due to his very presence. Though he no longer allowed himself to think freely, now that Galbatorix could have full access to his thoughts and memories at any moment the wished, Murtagh would not want the slightest thing that would quite possible ensure him a beating.

There was one thing Murtagh was certain of, he did not feel sorry for the man that was about to die in front of most of Uru'baen's nobles, he envied him. That man was lucky, he would no longer have to deal with Galbatorix and his sadistic ways, he would be free of it all. He was the farthest thing from what Murtagh was right now, he unwillingly had to do what Galbatorix told him to, feel what Galbatorix tells him to feel and he couldn't even find closure in his own thoughts because Galbatorix controlled those to.

The first thing he noticed as he was roughly shoved and pulled out of the cell, that he had called home for a large amount of time, was that something must surely have be wrong. He was out from behind the bars for the first time in months and if there was one thing he knew, it was that when any of the others were taken out they were never brought back, and he was pretty sure they weren't set free.

Sunlight blinded him; it was the first natural light he had seen since he had been taken from his home, from his wife and his children. Feeling its warmth on his skin, it comforted him and he finally came to terms with the fact that he would probably never see them again, he always had hope but now he knew that all it was, was a false sense of security.

Screams of celebration and delight bombarded his sensitive ears instantly giving him a splitting headache. There they where, they thought so highly of themselves but all they really were were a bunch of animals. Not even a pack of wolves had such a craving and love for blood.

He was forced to walk directly through the middle of the crowed. They all grabbed at him and sent obscurities his way, all the way to his death.

Shutting out the strange world around him he closed his eyes, he hoped his children would grow up strong and someday have a healthy and loving family of their own -he felt the scratchy texture of the nooses rope- hoped that his wife could protect and provide all of their needs for them - the executioner spoke the last words he would even hear , informing him that as a traitor his right for last words had been lost - hoped that his son would grow to be a respected man that could protect and support his family, unlike his father.

In a sudden he could no longer breathe, he felt his body squirm and wriggle uncontrollably, like a fish out of water, and fight for breath. Then nothing.

Aphra watched as the man went limp in front of her and as the crowd, which had gone intent and silent while the executioner did his job, cheered. A hand at the very front of the crowed was raised and Galbatorix officially gave the title of first-in-command to Morzan's son, Murtagh.

She shielded the sun from her face with her umbrella and began contemplating the weather. The weather definitely did not suite the situation. It was a glorious sunny morning, the birds could be heard chirping in the trees above, could it be possible that the land of Alagaesia had turned just as evil as the man that ruled over it.

For someone to say that she was not to be part of the celebrating crowd would be one of the most sensible things she had heard anyone say in a while. She stood at the far back, quite a number of feet away from the mass, but still had a perfect view of the poor man that had met his fate. She wanted to watch him die. She wanted to make sure that at least one person here wished him an easy and painless death and that at least one person felt guilt and shed a tear for another stolen soul. That someone there remembered his face and promised that one day he and all of the others alongside him would be avenged now that they had been cruelly forced out of this horrendous world.


	5. Freedom

Chapter 4 – Freedom

Most enjoyed the inauguration, they found it entertaining, but Murtagh was not impressed, watching a man being hanged was not his type of entertainment. Once the prisoner had stopped shaking Murtagh lifted his hands in a sort of victory, which is exactly what was expected of him, and was then officially named general of the Alagaesian army.

He had found most of the traditions that had been introduced to him to be utterly ridiculous, though the worst one would have to be the celebration, as a sort victory, of the hanging of a weak and tired man as a general is named. Isn't a general a soldier, supposedly the best of all of the soldiers on the battle field, so why was a helpless and weak man, who had been locked in a tiny cage for months or possibly even years, executed in his name, symbolically being the first man to fall under his mighty sword?

To him it made no sense, but then again in the situation that he was in what he thought didn't matter what so ever. So much for a strong and mighty general, through it all he was nothing but a puppet and Galbatorix was pulling the strings.

After the official ceremony was over, and the limp body was taken down, everybody stayed to continue the celebrations, but he did not want to spend any more time with those wrenched animals then what he was forced to. He walked most of the way around the castle until he came to what used to be some of the horse stables, and which had been transformed into one very large and cosy room. It was full of hay and was big enough to fit a fully grown dragon inside, which was exactly its purpose.

Thorn was curled up in the corner when Murtagh entered; he already took up at least half of the room and he was only at the ripe age of five months. He was so big that Murtagh could even ride him for quite a long period of time. In fact they would both probably be going into battle soon. A few more weeks and a few more spell casters drained of their power and they'll be on their way.

Deciding he wanted to take a break from life he lifted himself on the child minded beast and guided him towards the opening. Knowing instinctively just what was being asked of him, Thorn lifted his giant wings once they had reached the stable's doors and pushed all the air from underneath him causing them both to be lifted upwards into the clear skies.

They continued to soar higher into the high until they were higher than the highest peak of the castle and could see all the way to the very distant end of the Silverwood Forest. At this point in their life the forest had become their compulsive destination, their only getaway.

They floated towards the giant gathering of trees; both in no rush whatsoever to get to the small lake found somewhere towards the centre of the forest; the longer they spent away from that retched castle and all its inhabitants the better. The sun was still in its same position up in the sky when they arrived at the minor break in the mighty gathering of trees, even with them gliding their way over and taking their time enjoying the mixture fresh air and 'freedom'.

As they got closer, about fifty meters away from the opening line of trees, Thorn began descending and found his feet just a few metres away from the cool fresh water of the shining lake. Murtagh got off of Thorn's back, allowing him to venture deeper into the forest and hunt for a couple of snacks. All the while Murtagh turned in the opposite direction and started to roam around, passaging in between all the different types of trees, of which there where many.

Short and pudgy, tall and thin, some seemed dead having no leaves attached to the dry and cracked branches even in the dead of spring, while the rest overflowed with leaves of all different colours and shapes. They're the perfect example of what a community should be like, every individual is unique and different from his neighbour only a few feet away and yet they live together in perfect harmony. This is what life was supposed to be like.

For a moment Murtagh forgot about what his race had made of this world and felt strangely happy in the shadow of these ancient trees. In fact just for a second he felt strangely free.


	6. Expect the Unexpected

Chapter 5 – Expect the Unexpected

Out of all the rooms in the castle only two were constantly guarded by the king's guard, and it was on a twenty-four hour three-hundred-and-sixty-five days a year basis. These where the opening to the King's quarters and one particular person's door which was situated on the second floor. The guards were assigned to this door not to protect all that was inside from the outside world but to make sure that the person who slept and spent the majority of their time in that room was not hurt by themselves.

Obviously there was a long and hard history attached to the conception that this person was capable of thoroughly hurting themselves. The long and ever winding story contained a toxic mixture of both an immense amount of heartache, which they had gone through in there short life, and a mysterious occurrence that everybody knows happened, they just don't specifically know what happened. More evidentially they had also hurt themselves on quite a number of occasions in the past so it wouldn't be surprising for them to do it again, and the guards job was to make sure that didn't happen.

Whenever self-harm was previously used it was just that. They had never gone as far as trying to take their own life, the worse p[art was that they seemed to not only enjoy the pain but had a dire need for it. It was something that they have done for a very long time and somehow still do even with the constant presence of a minion.

While most in the same situation cut or burned themselves, this particular being skinned themselves. As soon as the skin of their left hand began to heal up, thanks to the magicians assigned by Galbatorix, they would get rid of the newly appearing skin.

The most shocking thing about the situation was that the only time they seemed to be calm and at peace with themselves and those around them was when not an ounce of skin was present on their palm. For that short period they seemed happy, but once the skin starts to magically reappear, they would fall in a dark mood, and going to ridiculous extremes to be alone with their carving knife.

Murtagh could remember walking past the guarded room as a child on the rare occurrences when he would have been forced to accompany his deranged father to the castle. If he would have dared to open his mouth he would have ask why that one door had always been guarded, what was so special about it, and yet he had never seen anything out of the ordinary which helped make it seem any different from the hundred other rooms in the castle.

One thing that he found strange was the fact that this door was on the one floor in the castle that was dedicated to guest bedrooms, there where hundreds of empty bedrooms in between the sparse few that were actually in use.

The only time that they were actually even used was by some cheating nobleman or a widowed noblewoman who needed a place to stay until she 'grieved' her dear husband's death and his will was over seen. Though this particular room had been used for a countless amount of years without rest, it was a factor which made this room unique to all the others, and so making it all the more alluring in Murtagh's eyes. As he look at the door from behind one of the many solid columns found in all of the corridors in the castle, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder to every corner of the world.

What could Galbatorix possibly be hiding in that room?

A handful of dragon eggs possibly, no, he thought, Galbatorix would want any other eggs as close to his body at all times as he could, and if he had any other dragons that were waiting for their riders he would most certainly keep them under tighter security.

The next possibility that came to mind made his eyes widen. Could he possibly, maybe, have a woman locked away in that room? This made him cringe and caused his stomach to turn, even the thought of that made him feel sick. Galbatorix was nonetheless a male, a ruthless male, but still a male, and every male needs the company of a woman on occasion.

If this was the truth behind the mysterious door he would most definitely be disappointed, he had spent this whole stretch of time wondering about it only to find out it had been due to some petty play thing, locked away and separated from the rest of the public, for the King's enjoyment.

Murtagh turned and walking away, slightly disappointed at the possibility he had just conjured up in his brain, shaking his head as he went.

He was not happy with what he had just come up with but he was more right about that door than he had ever been, though want he didn't expect about this possibility is that there was way more to this story than he ever thought possible.


End file.
